Warm and Fuzzy
by DragonChaos
Summary: House saves yet another life, but this one's much smaller than the rest...And covered in fur! First House fic, please RR! HC
1. Gimme, Gimme Shelter

**Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. Don't get your panties all in a bunch about borrowing the characters and messing around with them either. I'll put them back when I'm done. Honest.**

**Title: Warm and Fuzzy**

**Author: DragonWriter**

**Feedback: Sure! Love to hear your thoughts.**

**Chapter Summary: House saves yet another life, but this one's much smaller than all the rest…**

**Chapter One: Gimme, Gimme Shelter**

_Step-thump, step-thump, step-thump._

It was about eleven o'clock on a cold night, and Doctor Gregory House was making his way from his shiny, red Corvette to his apartment building after another late shift at the hospital, his breath coming out in white puffs of mist. He was tired, grouchy, and ready to snap. His leg hurt like hell from the cold, and all he wanted was his vicodin and his scotch, his means of forgettingthe events of the day; the patient that lied to him, almost costing his own life, the energy it took to get the truth... He wanted to play his piano. He wanted to…

House sighed wearily when he finally reached his door and scrubbed a hand over his whiskery face before he jammed his key into the lock.

That's when he heard it.

He paused for a moment, thinking that maybe it was just the sound of a floorboard creaking somewhere close by or maybe someone's protesting brakes, but…There it was again.

_Eeow!_

A…cat?

He turned around, pulling his key with him while listening for the sound again so as to pinpoint where it was coming from.

_Miaooo…_

It was a pitiful sound, not too strong, and very high-pitched for a normal cat. More like a squeak.

_Mee…_

Off to the left, in the bushes. House limped over to the sidewalk and scanned the area, looking for any sign of movement in the darkness.

_Meeoow…_

There! Behind the second bush. For most certainly not the first time and also just as certainly not the last, he cursed his bum leg as he made his way on to the soft bark dust-covered ground towards the noise. He parted the leaves and stared.

There lay a kitten, no bigger than his hand, crawling around in the wood chips, crying its little fuzzy head off. House looked around for whoever might know where this little creature came from, but the street was empty. He heaved a great sigh; bending over really wasn't one of his strong points anymore, but he couldn't very well just leave the little furball out in the cold. Well, he could, but even _he_ wasn't that much of a bastard. It was October, for Christ's sake.

Besides, it was people he had a problem with. Animals he usually got on with just fine.

He winced as he adjusted his cane so he could bend over and scoop up the kitten. In the dark, he couldn't really tell what color it was, but what he could tell when he finally was able to lift it off the ground was that it was very young, far too young to be away from mommy. In the dim orange light of the street lamps, he was able to tell it still had gray-blue baby eyes and looked as though as its ears still weren't fully open.

He estimated it was about a couple weeks old. Maybe three at most.

The little tyke started nuzzling into the warmth of his hand, desperately searching for something to suckle on. He stroked its side with his thumb and brought it closer to his chest as he made his way back to the car.

Time to go buy an eyedropper and some kitten formula.

Luckily for him the local pet store was twenty-four hour.

**House, MD**

"That'll be $35.95," the teenaged sales clerk with bright purple hair informed him and he swiped his credit card. Maybe there was some way he could get the hospital to pay for all of this…Maybe he could tell Cuddy that he was taking care of a patient by making "House calls." The thought made him smirk. She might just go for it. Then again…she knew him too well.

House had tucked the kitten into his inner jacket pocket. He told himself he did this just to keep the thing from peeing all over his leather interior of his car, and if it happened to keep the kitten warm at the same time, well, so be it.

That leather was expensive.

At the moment, however, the girl behind the checkout stand was eyeing him strangely.

"What?" He demanded, glaring at her. "Do I have something stuck in my teeth?" The clerk, unphased, pointed to his chest.

"Something's moving in your jacket," Purple said matter-of-factly. He looked down and his jacket was indeed moving around. The kitten was so light that he hadn't even noticed the squirming. Finally a squeaky _mew! _escaped and the clerk looked at him accusingly. House scowled at her and reached into his pocket, producing the black and white kitten. It was still mewling unhappily. "You know they're not supposed to be away from their moms until they are at least six weeks."

"Really?" He responded, feigning shock. "I thought you could take them away the moment they were born!" She frowned at him. "Gimme." He reached across the counter and grabbed the bag full of the kitten necessities he'd purchased before making a break for the sliding doors.

"You have to feed 'em every three to four hours!" Purple called after his retreating form. He didn't acknowledge her and pressed on until he got into the 'Vette.

Every three to four hours? He was almost positive that there was some sort of policy on animals not being allowed in the hospital, and he highly doubted Cuddy would go for the 'seeing-eye kitten' excuse. Maybe he could give it to someone.

Well, first things first. He pulled out the little animal blanket he'd bought from the paper bag and placed it on his lap. He placed the kitten on it and went to work preparing the kitten formula and filling the eyedropper with it. While he was doing this, the kitten crawled all over his lap, mewling pitifully every now and then and causing House to pet its tiny head with a finger soothingly.

He realized he was grateful that none of the doctors he worked closely with had any pets. That way there was absolutely no chance that they would be at a pet store to see him be remotely nice to anything.

He tried to get the fuzzball to take to the end of the eyedropper, but he just sniffed past it, uninterested. Undeterred, House tried again; same result.

"Come on, you have to eat," he said gruffly as he leaned back and blew out a breath, staring at the ceiling of his car. "You want to die, is that it? You make me come all the way out here to buy you a bunch of crap…" His words died off as the telltale sounds of suckling made their way to his ears over his tirade. He looked back down quickly, and the kitten was indeed drinking up the contents of the eyedropper. He squeezed his end of it to help the little guy (or gal) along, and the suckling continued.

"Greedy little bastard, aren't ya?" House said softly. Once the formula was all gone, he pulled the eyedropper away and put it back in the bag. The kitten once again mewed in protest. "Oh, cut the crap, will ya? I'll give you more in a little while. I don't want you to get sick in my car because you ate too much."

The kitten crawled around in his lap before settling down and curling up into a little ball of fluff. It purred the rest of the drive home.

House tried very hard not to notice how cute it was.

**House, MD**

The next morning, House made his way up to his office cloak and dagger style. He effectively dodged Cuddy by slipping into a broom closet, and thankfully the kitten didn't make a sound as she walked by in her Prada heels. It was a good thing, too; she had the 'House is late for work' look on her face.

This look was very similar to the 'House is late for clinic duty' look, and could easily be confused with the former, but House knew them well enough to tell the difference.

He managed to get to the elevator, and, upon discovering that he was alone once inside, heaved a sigh of relief, but it was short-lived when the doors reopened and Doctor James Wilson stepped in, a cheery grin on his face.

"'Morning, Jimmy," House said with a smirk on his face. "Why, what puts you in such a good mood? What was her name again? Nurse Betty…?"

"Will you stop?" The grin instantly vanished and was replaced by a look of annoyance. "I'm not seeing any nurses…or anyone else for that matter!" He added quickly when he saw House open his mouth to retort.

"So…you're not seeing your wife, then?" His smirk grew bigger as his friend let out an exasperated puff.

_Mew!_

The smirk disappeared.

Wilson stared at House.

"What did…what was that?" He noticed how House shifted his backpack uncomfortably; the movement in his shoulders as he did so subtle and barely noticeable to someone who didn't really know him, but to Wilson, it was sure sign of House being caught in the act of …something. There was a lengthy silence, and when House didn't respond, Wilson prompted, "Well?"

"Well what?" House put on his best confused face. Wilson didn't buy it for a second.

"That noise? What the hell was…"

_Meeew!_

"…That?"

"I have gas, okay? Sheesh, and you're supposed to be the one with all the bedside manner…" House huffed. The kitten was wriggling inside his coat, tickling him a little with its efforts.

"House…your coat…" House hung his head in resignation. The doors to the elevator opened and House walked out at a brisk pace.

"Are you coming? I haven't got all day, you know…I have Spacemonkeys to kill and General Hospital to watch…" Wilson caught up to him in a few quick strides and followed the diagnostician to his office.

The blinds were drawn and the room was quiet as Wilson stared open-mouthed at the little kitten now crawling around on the blanket House had smuggled into the hospital via his backpack.

"Where did you…How…?" Wilson finally managed when he found his voice, but apparently still hadn't reacquired the ability to form full sentences. Fortunately, House spoke Wilson-ese. Well, House might say _unfortunately_. House glared at him as he dug around in his bag for the formula and the eyedropper.

"If you're thinking that I went to the pet store and got myself a kitten because I needed a 'friend'," House punctuated his words with air quotation marks, "You can forget it; this thing found _me._"

"Isn't it a little…"

"Small? Young? Yes on both accounts. I already got the third degree from Miss Purple the pet store clerk. I don't need it from you." Wilson held up his hands defensively.

"I wasn't going…Miss Purple?"

There was the familiar swish of glass on carpet as Doctor Allison Cameron entered House's office; her pristine white labcoat trailing behind her elegantly as she moved to the pile of mail in House's inbox. She froze at the sight of Wilson and House both standing very close together and both not looking at her or each other.

"Um…Did I…interrupt something?" Cameron asked hesitantly. They were both acting like children caught with their hands in the proverbial cookie jar. House's piercing gaze finally met hers when he heard the implication in her tone.

"Yes, Jimmy and I were talking about what we're going to do for our date next week," House replied caustically. "Weren't we, Jimmy?" He looked over to where Wilson stood, but the younger man was already bending over to scoop up the kitten. "Traitor." House muttered.

"House has found you all a new patient, Cameron," Wilson told her as he handed her the tiny furball.

"You're gonna sell me out to Cuddy, aren't you, you narc?" House asked accusingly.

"Nope, but she _is_ going to find out eventually, so I suggest you figure out some excuses," Wilson informed him. "But I'm sure you've already thought of a few of those anyway. Have fun!" On that note, the oncologist left Cameron and House alone with the kitten.

The kitten was currently nestled against Cameron's chest purring loudly, and House couldn't help but be a little envious. Oh, to be cozied-up to Cameron's soft…

"Does he have a name?" Cameron's voice broke him out of his delightful reverie.

"He?"

"Yes, at least I'm pretty sure it's a boy. I take it that means you haven't named him yet?"

"How do you know? There are plenty of unisex names out there to choose from," he told her. She frowned at him and turned her attention back to the soft kitten now asleep in her hand, safely clutched close to her body. House sighed again. "No, I haven't named _him_ yet. I hadn't really planned on keeping him anyway. He's gotta belong to somebody."

"Wait a minute. You _found_ him?" She asked incredulously. "Where?"

"Outside my place in the bushes, screaming for the entire world to hear," he answered. "It's really annoying, actually. I had to stay up all night to feed it…_him_." Cameron stared at him in response.

Doctor House stayed up _all night_ with a _kitten?_

He wouldn't do that for most of his patients…unless they were clinically insane. Cameron regarded him with newfound respect, and her steady, beaming greenish-blue-eyed gaze was making House uncomfortable.

"What?" He asked sharply. "Why do people keep looking at me like that?"

"Looking at you like what?" Her brows knitted in confusion and shook her head. "Anyway, House, I don't think anyone's going to claim that they abandoned a kitten in some bushes, since that would mean they'd be liable for charges of animal abuse. You either have to keep him, put up "Free Kitten" posters, or give him to the Humane Society."

"Ah, but you're forgetting Super Secret Option Number Four," he said as he wagged his finger at her. "I _could_ find him a home with a certain sickeningly sweet, nice immunologist who _happens_ to be so warm and fuzzy herself that she would no doubt get along very well with a kitten…" He looked pointedly at her, his ice blue eyes intense. Maybe he could stare her into this.

She looked down at the innocent kitten huddled against her and sighed wistfully. As much as she would have liked to take this kitten home, she figured House needed him more than she did. Maybe it would do him some good to have someone waiting for him when he got home. Who knows? Maybe he was a cat person deep down inside.

"Sorry, House, you can't just dump him on me," she stated as she handed the tiny bundle of fur back to him. House reached up automatically to take him back and nearly smiled when the exchange did little to disturb the slumber of the miniature sleeping beast. "He's your responsibility, now." Their fingers brushed, sending a jolt of electricity to all of his nerve endings, before she dropped her arm back to her side.

She turned on her heel, grabbed the mail, and was gone before he could say, 'Bob's your uncle.'

He looked down at the little creature, whose life now rested, quite literally, in his hands.

Funny, he didn't have a problem with this so-called 'responsibility'.

**House, MD**

When Doctor Lisa Cuddy walked into the Diagnostics Department, the last thing she expected was for the head of said department to be sleeping in his computer chair. When she opened her mouth to yell at him for not only showing up for late work but for being late for clinic duty _and _sleeping on the job, something stalled the words in her throat.

There was something…_fuzzy_ on House's chest. And it was breathing.

Could it be…?

She silently crossed the floor to his desk so she could get a closer look at this anomaly. House brought up a large hand to rest on top of it, covering most of its body.

Cuddy gasped, and House's eyes flew open.

"Doctor Cuddy! How nice of you to drop by!" House stood up faster than she'd seen him move in a long time, and he quickly put some distance between himself and the Dean. "To what, dare I ask, do I owe this privilege?" He performed a bow, hand still holding the, yes it was indeed a kitten, to his chest as he bent at the waist.

Cuddy begrudgingly admitted to herself that despite all of his misgivings and his injury, House was still a graceful man.

She would die from torture before ever admitting that to his face, however. The man's ego was already the size of a small country.

"You were late getting in this morning, and you're now late for clinic duty," she informed him. "And I don't _even_ want to start on how many health codes you're breaking right now with that…_thing_."

"Oh, what, _him?_ He's harmless…wouldn't hurt a fly," House paused for a moment, appearing thoughtful. "Well, he might, but that's only because he's a cat, and they like to eat bugs…"

"House…"

"Come to think of it, he might actually be good for the hospital, keep the cockroach and mice population to a minimum, you know, like they do on farms…"

"House!"

"What if I told you he promises to be on his best behavior?"

"HOUSE!" Her shriek bounced of the glass walls into the ringing silence that followed her outburst.

The kitten mewed in protest and sent, House swears it's true, a death glare towards Cuddy for disturbing his nap.

He was _so_ making sure that the kitten got some treats later.

"Jeez, Cuddy, have some tact!" He changed his tone to baby-talk. "Did that mean, scary lady wake you up? Don't worry; she just likes to strut around like she owns the place…"

"I'm going to overlook the fact that you just compared this hospital to a farmhouse, but you need to get that thing out of here before someone sees you!"

"Sorry, I can't leave him alone," House told her. "He was abandoned outside my building, so I had to take him in. He requires constant attention and care. I guess I'll just take him with me to the clinic and hope that the patients aren't allergic…"

"No!" Cuddy cut him off. "No. Find someone else to take care of him. You have work to do."

"But…"

"No buts!" She turned to leave.

"Please?" She paused midstep. Cuddy turned slowly, not quite believing that _that_ word had passed House's lips in such a sincere tone. Apparently, he was just as taken aback by it as she was judging by the surprised look on his face. She stared at him for a few moments, her mind working quickly.

"Fine, take a few days off to get stuff arranged for your…pet," she relented and she made to leave again but turned around in time to see him to a victory arm pump. She grinned evilly. You celebrate too soon, Dr. House. "But you owe me make-up hours in the clinic when you get back."

His only response was to attempt to use his latent super powers to burn two holes in the back of her head with laser beams from his eyes as she walked away, the clip-clop of her heels echoing in the corridor with what House would swear was an annoying air of superiority.

**House, MD**

When Cameron returned shortly after having sorted House's mail, she noticed he was packing up some of his stuff into his backpack while the kitten was still crawling around on the blanket he'd brought for him.

"Leaving so soon?" She tried hard not to sound disappointed, but judging by the look he gave her she was unsuccessful. It was an odd look, like somewhere between vexed and amused. If there really is such an expression.

"Aw, what's the matter, you gonna miss me?" He sneered. "I'm touched, really, I am! But, unfortunately, I have to go home and play 'House'." The corners of his mouth twitched at his own joke and she graced him with a wide smile.

"Don't you usually two people to play the parents?" Her eyes widened slightly, realizing that she was trying to invite herself over to his apartment, but she decided to roll with it. He stared at her for a long moment, carefully contemplating his next words, his steely gaze searching hers as if he could see right to her core. She spoke up before he could snark at her. "Um, I mean, if you want, I could help you with…I mean, I've had a few kittens before and…"

"You've _had_ kittens?" He blinked at her slowly. "What, are you part feline? I mean, I _knew_ there was something weird about you, but you think I would have noticed a tail by now…" He deliberately tried to get a good long look at her rump.

"You want my help or not?" She interrupted, a hand on her hip and her chin lifted defiantly.

"Don't you have some work to do?"

"Not really. We don't have any new cases and I, unlike you, I am already caught up with my clinic hours. So, _you_ can give me time off, boss." He considered her for a minute or two before bending over to pick up the kitten.

"Fine, but you get to clean up the pee and poo," he said gruffly as he handed her the small bundle of purring fur. "I don't know if he's house-trained." She smiled and nodded in agreement before nuzzling the kitten.

"Have you picked out a name for him yet?"

"Mick Jagger," he answered, his eyes twinkling with mirth. "When I found him I could've sworn he was squeaking 'Gimme, gimme shelter'." She laughed softly and held 'Mick' in front of her face so she could get a closer look at him.

His soft baby fur was a sleek black, and he had white tuxedo markings on his chest, a little white spot on his tummy, white toes, white whiskers, and a slim white stripe on his tiny nose. She could already tell his eyes weren't going to stay gray and were possibly going to turn yellow or gold.

"Hello, Mickey," she said softly as she touched her nose to his. In response he stuck out his paw and put it on the tip of her nose. She giggled until she suddenly realized that she was under the scrutiny of one very amused diagnostician. "What?"

"Mickey?" His barely contained smile was starting to surface. "He's not a mouse, he's a _cat_."

"He's a baby, and babies are required to have nicknames," Cameron informed him matter-of-factly.

"Of course, how did I not know that?" He smacked his forehead. "Duh!"

"Besides, it's cute," she said more quietly.

"Oh, great," House scoffed. "You're going to take away his manhood before he's even a man. Tomcat. Whatever." He waved his hand around impatiently. "The point is, how's he gonna get all the lady-cats if you're making him a sissy-la-la cat?"

Cameron was saved from having to retort by the sudden entrance of Doctors Eric Foreman and Robert Chase.

"Where are you going?" Foreman asked House when he saw he had his backpack slung over his shoulder.

"Home. Cuddy's given me a few days off. Had to do a few sexual favors, but it looks like I finally broke her." He quipped and Foreman raised his hands as though to ward off House's pretend over sharing. Even if it didn't really happen, it didn't make a very pretty picture in his head. "Oh, and Cameron's going home, too." At this point, Foreman and Chase both looked at Cameron quizzically. Chase noticed Mick first.

"Whoa, Allison, when d'you get a cat?" The Australian asked.

"It's…Um…" She stammered, looking to House for help.

"It's the reason she gets to go home," he told them. Not exactly a lie, but not exactly the truth either. "Anyway, I'm off. I have some _very _important television to watch when I get home." He limped between them, forcing them to make way for him and left the office. Foreman and Chase stared after him while Cameron quickly got her things together. She handed Mick to a dumbfounded Foreman while she got ready and shut her laptop off. She took off her labcoat, hung it on the nearby rack, grabbed her duffel bag, and gently took Mickey back from Foreman before following House's suit. She left clutching the little black kitten close while she carried her bag over her shoulder.

"I…don't know what just happened," Chase admitted slowly. Foreman nodded.

"Yeah, and I get the feeling we don't want to know."

**House, MD**

House was waiting for her in the parking garage.

"Your car or mine?" He gestured with his cane in the general direction of the cars.

"Yours," she smiled. "And…Um…" She looked away, suddenly unable to meet his gaze.

"If you're going to thank me again, don't," he said flatly.

"No, I mean, yes, thank you," she paused when he growled at her, but continued, "I was going to ask if you could…put the top down." He looked at her sharply and gave her a half-grin when she finally met his gaze. He limped off ahead of her.

"Last one there's a rotten egg!"

**A/N: The song I'm using in the story is called "Gimme Shelter" by the Rolling Stones. Please R/R! Lemme know what you think? Should I continue on?**


	2. Playing House

**Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. Don't get your panties all in a bunch about borrowing the characters and messing around with them either. I'll put them back when I'm done. Honest.**

**Title: Warm and Fuzzy**

**Author: DragonChaos**

**Feedback: Sure! Love to hear your thoughts.**

**Author's Note: Oh. My. God. You guys RAWK! I couldn't believe the feedback I was getting for this, especially since it's my first attempt at writing a House fic. I'm glad some of you who have worked and/or had animals like this before were able to associate with the story. I'm also happy that you think I'm doing a good job with the characterizations, because House is tough to write and I wasn't so sure about him in this situation. **

**And for those who didn't want this to go the House/Cameron route, I'm sorry. Icouldn't help myself. P**

**Anyway, this chapter's a little shorter and a little more serious, but it's got some good moments (at least I hope they're good). Enjoy!**

**Chapter Summary: House gets infected with a new disease…Damn that heartburn!**

**Chapter Two: Playing House**

They were almost to the front steps of House's apartment when Cameron stopped. He looked back at her questioningly.

"Will you hurry up?" He said shortly. "Mick's getting cold!" Cameron looked down to see if his statement was true, but she found that the kitten was once again seemingly content as he rested against her chest inside her coat.

"Riiight," she responded sarcastically as she gave him a knowing look. She glanced around the area. "Where did you find him?" Her voice had gone soft with the question, and House had to strain a little bit to hear her. He tilted his head a fraction as he looked at her, a very subtle movement that usually implied he was intrigued by something. At this point in time, it was Cameron's sudden interest in his act of kindness the night before that piqued his interest.

"Over there," House answered simply, raising his arm briefly to point in the general direction of the bushes that were apart of the landscaping for the apartment building. She squinted as she let her gaze sweep over that area, as though trying to imagine House looking through the bushes, his uncharacteristic act of selflessness playing through her mind like a movie. He shook his head and turned to unlock the door. Maybe if they got inside she wouldn't…

"That was a really nice thing you did, you know," she said, her voice coming from directly behind him. He didn't turn around to face her.

"You know me, I'm all about niceness," he replied as he scowled at the door, the venom in his voice evident, silently willing her to drop it. The last thing he needed was Cameron putting together evidence that was, deep down, a nice person.

He had an image to maintain.

He opened the door and walked inside before she could say anything more, and they rode the elevator up together in silence. Cameron seemed to have gotten the hint, and remained wisely quiet.

_Ping!_

They reached the seventh floor and House limped off ahead of her, leading the way. It was only a short distance from the lift, and when he reached his flat he opened the door quickly and moved inside, leaving it open for Cameron. It was his way of silently inviting her into his abode without having to make a big deal about it.

Because he knew, of course, that this would be something of a big deal to Cameron.

"His litter box is over there in the corner," he told her before heading down the hallway, leaving her alone in his apartment. He wasn't so sure if that was necessarily wise, but at the moment he needed some space.

"'Kay." She took the kitten out of her coat and set him in the cat box, leaving him for the moment to sniff around whilst she looked around the apartment for a washcloth. She had read something about rubbing a kitten's belly in order to stimulate bladder usage, so she let her gaze wander the inner workings of House's sanctuary.

He had beautiful polished wood flooring everywhere in the apartment, a couple of off-white couches that looked very comfortable, a green armchair that looked so worn she figured it must be his favorite place to sit, a bookshelf brimming with all kinds of different books, and a small dining room table that only had two chairs placed with it. The large television set was placed in front of the couches and was accompanied by large speakers and several game consoles. She noted the XBox, a Gamecube, and a Playstation 2.

Of course he would have all three. When House got into something, he got into it one-hundred percent. Cameron let a small smile play across her face as she shook her head in quiet amusement. She also noted the magazines that were spread out all over his coffee table were game magazines, with of course the obligatory Playboy and Maxim magazine thrown in the mix.

And then there was his piano. It was beautiful; the wood sleek and black, the ivory of the keys looked well-played, and everything about it screamed, "House!" It almost looked like an extension of him, his way of expressing himself when he was incapable of using any other outlet.

She turned her attention back to the kitten because she heard a scratching noise, and she saw Mick was instinctively pawing at the litter. The little kitten was still somewhat awkward about it, but he seemed to know what he was doing. When he concluded his business, he jumped down clumsily and ended up almost falling onto his face, causing Cameron to giggle at his klutziness. She crouched down and petted him, still somewhat surprised at how small he was.

"You're very lucky, Mick," she said in a hushed voice. "House doesn't normally like anyone, but he seems to like you." Her voice contained a hint of regret.

House watched the whole scene from the hallway. He'd actually been spying on her for a few minutes now, wanting to see how she would react to his apartment without him there to influence her.

He kept telling himself it had absolutely nothing to do with wanting her approval; he just wanted to make sure she didn't touch anything. Why should he care what she thinks? Why had he invited her over in the first place? Was he ill? He raised his hand and pressed the back of it against his forehead, checking for fever. Nope, temperature normal.

Now, as he watched her gently pet his new kitten (yes _his_ kitten, he'd decided on the way home that judging by the way Cameron reacted to him Mick would be a real chick magnet), he felt a twinge in his stomach.

Damn heartburn.

He limped his way into the room, making quite a bit of noise so she would know he was there.

He scooped up the kitten, and stood up to his full height.

"Now you listen here, Mick Jagger," he told the kitten as he held it rather close to his face. "You have a reputation to live up to, and there will be none of this cuddling…" He trailed off when the kitten reached out and put a paw on his chin, and from there proceeded to lick House's thumb with his rough, pink tongue. He grinned briefly before he remembered he wasn't alone in the room. "Take him," he said gruffly as he handed Mick back to Cameron. "It seems I was too late in my intervention and you've already poisoned him with your niceness. You need to have a warning label about how contagious you are." She took the kitten from him once again and merely smiled at him in response, once again proving his point. He gave her a faux scowl and turned away to walk into the living room before he also was infected with Cameronitis.

"Are you hungry?" The source of the disease he'd just named asked. "It's almost lunchtime."

"The kitchen's right over there," he informed her without looking at her.

"Mick already seems to know how to use the litter box," she commented over her shoulder as she walked towards the kitchen.

"Yes, we had a talk about that last night when he peed in my lap," he said as he moved to sit on the couch. "And you know how much I _love_ getting peed on. I had to make him sit in the box for hours in order to get my point across." She grinned at him over the counter she was standing behind in the kitchen and he realized he was showing symptoms of Cameronitis. "Damn cat is a nuisance." There, that should do it.

Ah, crap. She's still smiling.

House sighed as he plopped down on the couch and turned on the television. He devoted his full attention to the characters that played over the screen so as not to be distracted or exposed to any more niceness. At least for now.

Cameron, meanwhile, bustled around in the kitchen while the kitten followed her around curiously. Mick watched her every move and tried to get into the cupboards whenever she opened one to look for food or cooking utensils and she had to constantly make sure she didn't accidentally shut him in one of them. Finally, she found some soup, some bread, lunch meat (turkey breast and salami), and condiments to make sandwiches with so she set to work.

"What's going on in there?" House called out loudly, sounding annoyed. "It sounds like a baby gorilla's banging around in my kitchen!"

"Sorry!" She said in-between chuckles. "Didn't mean to disturb you!" She put the soup on the stove and made the sandwiches, all the while with Mick wandering around by her feet.

This was strange, being in House's domain. In his kitchen, nonetheless, acting all domesticated and making him lunch. She couldn't be sure if he'd had this planned all along and knew that she would offer to do something like this or if he was just as weirded out by the situation as she was. She wouldn't put it past him to have thought about it and somehow manipulated her into being 'helpful in the kitchen'.

Cameron shook her head. If he was manipulating her, she wasn't going to let him scare her away. Besides, she was the one who volunteered to come here in the first place…

She put the sandwiches onto a couple of plates and poured the soup into a couple of bowls. She was about to take everything out to the living room when House startled her.

"Are you done yet?" He asked impatiently as he reached past her and grabbed the sandwich closest to him; his nearness made her jump and sent shivers down her spine. "I'm starving, and you're taking forever," he growled as he gave her a look before taking a huge bite out of his turkey and salami sandwich.

"For your information, yes, I was done," she said calmly. "I was just about to bring it out to you." She looked down and saw Mick staring up at House. She watched in supreme amusement as he batted at House's cane.

"Picking on a cripple, eh?" House grumbled when he saw what Cameron was looking at. "Well, I guess there's hope for you yet, Mr. Jagger, as I see you're not all sugar and spice." Cameron snickered and he shot her a warning look that she promptly ignored; her giggling didn't even subside a little. Irritated, he took another large bite and stalked back into the living room wordlessly, Mick close on his heels. Cameron followed with the bowls of soup and her own sandwich in hand.

He sat heavily on the couch, his concentration immediately on the television screen again. She set his bowl of soup near him on the coffee table before placing herself on the other end of the couch that he was sitting on. Mick ran (more like stumbled) back and forth between them. Cameron delighted in playing with him, and House only begrudgingly so, as they both scratched at the couch with their fingernails to alternatively get Mick's attention and cause him to scamper back and forth between them. Cameron saw House glancing at her sideways several times, but she pretended not to notice.

**House, MD**

The finished eating in relative silence, with only a few snide comments from House about something on the TV and a few giggles elicited from Cameron because of either his jokes or Mick's antics.

The kitten soon wore himself out though, and flopped himself down on the couch, cuddled up next to House. He looked at the small cat with a certain level of irritation before deciding to ignore it. However, the hand that came up to rest on the kitten in a comforting manner belied his intentions of acting put out. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Cameron smiling at him guardedly.

"What are you so happy about?" He asked sharply. She quickly looked away and didn't say anything. Her smile was still there, though.

He had to do something about that.

"If you think coming over here and being all motherly with Mick is gonna get you into my pants, you can forget it." She stiffened in her seat, and he could tell he'd struck a nerve. Oh, too easy, Dr. Cameron. "Sorry to burst your bubble…Oh wait, no I'm not."

That was House for you. He just couldn't leave well enough alone. Instead of arguing with him, which of course would only lead to more verbal bashing, she stood up from the couch and gathered the dishes. House narrowed his eyes and watched her move closer to him to pick up his bowl and spoon. She refused to meet his gaze, but all the same there was no hesitation in her body language.

She went silently into the kitchen, and Mick had woken up in time to watch her go. He wiggled out from underneath House's hand to follow her, but he stopped at the edge of the couch, suddenly aware of what a long drop it was. He was saved from his indecision, however, by a large, warm hand that helped him down to the floor so he could continue after Cameron.

Why hadn't he gotten a rise out of her? Normally she would have been all over him…Not in the good sense. He puffed out a breath, wondering what his next move should be. He felt another twinge in his gut, but this was most definitely not heartburn.

It felt suspiciously like guilt.

He furiously grabbed his cane and stalked after her, with all the intention of making her pay for making him feel guilty.

Damn woman.

He turned to make his way to the kitchen but was halted in his tracks when he saw her getting her stuff together and putting on her coat.

Oh, _hell_ no. She's not going to get away that easily.

"Where do you think you're going?" He demanded, his voice dangerously low. She still wouldn't look at him.

"I'm going home," she said simply.

"What, you're pouting?"

"No, it's my day off, and I don't have to put up with verbal bashings if I don't want to."

"So you're pouting."

"Whatever you say, House," she replied tightly as she slung her duffel over her shoulder and headed for the door. He limped forward, advancing on her swiftly. Just as her hand twisted the doorknob, he shot his cane out in front of her and effectively jamming the door shut. She glared up at him as he loomed over her with a smirk on his face.

Good, he was finally getting results.

"Let. Go. Of. The door," Cameron ground out through clenched teeth. His piercing ice blue eyes narrowed and he continued to hold the door shut, daring her to make her move. She was so close to him he could feel her warm breath tickle his neck.

Cameron considered her options. She _could_ knock the cane away, which would make it so that she could leave, but of course would unbalance House and leave him lying on the floor, in pain.

She and House both know she wouldn't do that.

Bastard.

She could also let go of the doorknob, pretending she'd relented, and then open the door quickly when he'd thought he'd won.

Hmm.

She let out a sigh and let go of the knob. She backed away slowly, eyeing House warily.

He didn't pull his cane away from the door.

Instead, he stared at her, and she could see the cogs working a hundred miles a minute behind his eyes.

She had a feeling her devious plan had been thwarted.

"What do you want, House?" She blew out a puff of breath and raised her arms in exasperation before folding them over her chest.

He was saved from answering.

_Mew!_

They both looked down to see Mick sitting directly in-between them, his grayish eyes watching them both very closely, looking back and forth at the two tall humans he had adopted.

House looked at Cameron and found that she was already staring back at him. She had a small smile on her face, and the tension he felt moments before was gone. He felt the corners of his mouth twitch up slightly before he got his facial muscles back under control.

He went back over to the couch and picked up the cordless phone sitting on the end table.

Cameron realized he was giving her the out that she had wanted not a few minutes ago. Now, she hesitated. Damn him. Damn him and his frustrating nature.

"Hi, I'd like to place a delivery order," House looked over at her deliberately. "Yes, this is Doctor House…Yeah, I'd like the usual, and…" He lifted his chin at her. "You want some Chinese takeout or not, Cameron?"

That was House-ese for, 'Are you staying? Shall we call a truce?' She quirked an eyebrow at him while considering her answer while he continued to stare at her unblinkingly. She sighed and nodded in resignation.

"I'll have broccoli beef and lo mein," she told him, dropping her bag by the door again and walking back over to the couch. She fell back into the couch, sinking deeply into and leaning her head back, not paying attention to the muted television.

She felt a light pressure on her foot and looked over the edge of the couch. Little Mick Jagger sat there, his big eyes staring her, waiting. She obliged him and lifted him onto her lap, absently petting his soft baby fur.

"If you're not here in thirty minutes, I'm not paying," House said bluntly into the phone just before he hung up. Cameron grinned a little, but quickly wiped that away and replaced it with a look of indifference when he turned back and sat down next to her on the couch. He was sitting closer than he had before, his arm brushing hers, but he kept his eyes trained on the television.

He startled her when he leant forward abruptly and snatched the remote from the coffee table.

"Here," he said as he sat back, his arm once again rubbing against hers. She looked at him in surprise and found he was holding out the remote to her. She reached out hesitantly, watching him wearily the whole time, waiting for him to take it away at the last second in an attempt to dupe her. His expression was unreadable and he once again refused to look at her.

To her great surprise, he just held it there, waiting patiently for her to finally take it from him. So she did.

"Thanks," she said in a small voice.

He did look at her then, and she saw the conflict in his eyes, and he said more to her in those few moments than he had said all day. He definitely said more than, 'You're welcome."

Cameron went wide-eyed when the realization hit her.

House had just apologized to her.

"You gonna change the channel, or what?" He asked gruffly as he turned his attention back to the television.

She smiled, aimed the remote, and clicked.

House nonchalantly reached over to Cameron's lap and started petting Mick, who almost instantly started purring. Cameron tilted her head over ever so slightly and rested it against House's shoulder, but just barely, silently asking if it was okay. His response was to lean into her side a little bit and a grin lit up her face as she settled more into his side and put her head fully onto his shoulder.

House felt another twinge in his stomach…And a twinge in his chest.

Goddamn heartburn.


	3. Space

**Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. Don't get your panties all in a bunch about borrowing the characters and messing around with them either. I'll put them back when I'm done. Honest.**

**Title: Warm and Fuzzy**

**Author: DragonChaos**

**Feedback: Sure! Love to hear your thoughts.**

**Author's Note: Wow, I can't believe some of the feedback I've been getting for this. I absolutely love you guys. Love; not like, _love!_** **You are the reasons that make me want to continue writing this story, even when the going gets tough. You all helped me through this particular chapter as it was a little harder for me to write because I had to do a lot of research for some of the medical info (and I probably got it wrong anyway ducks), college midterms assaulted me left and right, and life just kept coming at me from all angles. It also took me a while to write it because I tend to reread a lot and rewrite parts that either don't make much sense to me or just sound wrong, like something the characters do or say that seem way out of character.**

**So, I apologize in advance for any errors in the medical part of the story. I am not a doctor…though I play one on TV…**

**Also, Trinityblade, thank you very much for your support. It made my day!**

**And, I'd like to thank you all for your constructive criticisms and kind words. They are very helpful, and I read every single one of them with a smile on my face. It makes me feel wonderful knowing that you guys are taking such an interest in this fic. I will endeavor to make the new chapter sooner this next go around.**

**Chapter Summary: And the hunted becomes the hunter…**

**Chapter Two: Space**

"Turncoat."

The accusation was just above a whisper, and it caused the alleged defector to open a bleary eye and give him a, "Oh, you _know_ you wish you were me right now!" look before shutting it and curling into an even tighter ball of black fur. The only bit of white now visible was on his little toes that poked out from underneath his chin.

The person who's lap the small feline was currently having an afternoon siesta on also happened to be having a catnap of her own. Much to House's dismay, she was having it on his shoulder.

House shook his head and sent a glare back at the kitten before glancing around the room, wincing slightly as he rubbed his bum leg soothingly.

It was then that he realized he was in the middle of a difficult dilemma.

His jacket was on the other end of the couch, wherein his vicodin was contained in the inner breast pocket. His leg was throbbing, and his watch was telling him he was twenty minutes overdue for his next dose. However, with his arm around his sleeping companion's shoulder, he was unable to move without waking her.

He shook his head again, as though trying to clear it. This shouldn't even be a consideration. He shouldn't care that he might wake Cameron up, and he also shouldn't care how adorable she looked with her lips pursed like that and a _teeny_ little bit of saliva oozing from her mouth…

Oh, for Christ's sake!

He nudged her sharply with his shoulder.

"Hey!" House said, much louder than necessary. "You're getting your cooties all over my favorite shirt!" Two blue-green eyes blinked open and he could see the moment the realization of her situation kicked in, that sudden spark she always got in the flecks of her irises that signaled when she'd solved a puzzle. He saw it often when they were working on a case, when the pieces finally fell together to form a coherent picture in her mind.

A woman with a brain: such a turn-on.

"Oh…Oh!" She pulled away as though stung, jostling the fuzzball in her lap in the process. Mick shot Cameron an evil look before stretching and trying to readjust himself more comfortably. "I'm so sor…"

"Just…" House held up a finger to silence her. "…Scoot over a tad." He pulled his arm from the back of the couch with a grimace as what felt like little needles began poking his arm, telling House that it was asleep. He leaned across the couch and grabbed his coat, the rattle of his vicodin in their amber bottle a welcome sound.

"I didn't mean to fall asleep like that…" The vehement look House gave her as he popped the lid of the bottle made her regret her words, so she tried again. "What did I miss?" She asked, gesturing towards the television. House shook out a single white pilled and put in his mouth, crunching it thoughtfully.

"Oh, you know, Ramirez's evil twin came back from the dead and slept with a woman who might actually be his mother," he answered, looking around the room absently.

"Sounds very Oedipus Rex to me," Cameron said with a smirk.

"I always said the Greeks started the soap opera," House said as he set his jacket back on the other end of the couch and sat back up, and he accidentally (on purpose) found himself brushing shoulders with Cameron again. She glanced at him warily out of the corner of her eye before changing the channel again and petting Mick as he slept on her thigh.

Cameron was still being very tentative around him, trying to push the limits without really pushing them. House observed that she was like a shy, unsure schoolgirl, and he had to wonder whether that was her true nature and if the forward, up-front attitude she put on at work was just an act. At the hospital, she said and did things her way and was independent, letting him know when he'd crossed the line. Here, in his home, she was trying to adapt, to be unobtrusive, and to follow his lead. Both of these aspects about her were pleasing to House, because they kept him on his toes.

He never knew when "work-Cameron" was going to rear her head in the "home-Cameron's" space, or vice-versa.

It was then that he realized he'd been staring at her rather than the television, so he quickly averted his gaze.

"So you're going to keep Mick, then?" Cameron asked quietly. It was her turn to stare at him, as though trying to scry the answer from his stubble with her gaze.

"Nope. Think I'm gonna give him to the Humane Society," he replied, his light blue eyes never leaving the television screen. The twitch of his jaw muscle gave him away, though; his serious tone wasn't fooling her.

Typical House.

"That's good. He needs a good home." Cameron lifted the kitten from her lap and placed him gently onto House's good leg. He jumped at her actions when the back of her knuckles brushed his knee. His eyes snapped to hers, his jaw clenched with restraint.

"Where you going?" He asked gruffly, watching her closely as she straightened, stretching her arms above her head. When she did so, the little bit of her tummy that peeked out from underneath her sweater distracted House.

Only a little farther to her belly button…

"Thinking about going home," she informed him as she tugged the hem of her sweater back down, giving him a pointed look. "Don't want to give you any more cooties." She turned and made her way over to his front door, stopping to put on her coat and pick up her duffel.

"Is this what you're going to do _every_ time I piss you off?" House asked, exasperated. "Act like you're going to leave?" House quickly moved Mick onto a pillow before he seized his cane and hauled himself up, turning so he could face her. "We both know you want to stay."

"What, am I not allowed to leave or something?" Cameron folded her arms over her chest. "Or am I only allowed to leave on your terms?" Ah. _There _was work-Cameron. She shook her head. "Besides, I'm not leaving right now because I'm angry. I'm leaving because…I have things to do."

"_Right_," House said sarcastically.

Just let her leave, House. It's obvious she doesn't want to stay with you…

"Just…" House let out frustrated sigh. "Just answer one question, before you go." She hung her head in defeat, but nodded in acquiescence.

"Shoot."

"Why are you in such a hurry to leave?"

Cameron heard the question, but it immediately went through the House translator in her brain.

_Did I say something wrong? Are you mad at me? What did I do? Please don't go._

She raised her head and met his ice blue eyes full on and considered her response.

"I need some space, some time to think," she answered finally. He stared at her for a few moments longer before nodding, seemingly convinced that her answer was truthful. He limped over to the door and opened it for her, watching as she smiled at the gesture and stepped past him. He rolled his eyes towards the ceiling when her nearness made his heart skip a beat, annoyed with the way his body was betraying his mind.

Taking his eyes off of her was a fatal mistake.

She swooped in and gave him a swift, soft kiss on his whiskery cheek before setting off down the hall at a very quick pace.

"I'll bring take-out next time I come over!" She called over her shoulder before rounding the corner on the way to the elevator.

He failed to notice or respond to the fact that she'd just invited herself back over to his apartment. House was still standing in the doorway, his eyes still on that crack in the ceiling, completely and totally dumbstruck.

The memory of her lips on his cheek stole his breath, and he was finding it very hard to get any oxygen into his lungs. A small smile ghosted across his expression before he realized what was going on.

His case of Cameronitis had metastasized to his brain and was causing him to lose his ability to speak and breathe. His heartbeat slowed to its regular pace and his attention was garnered by a certain small, furry fuzzball.

_Mew?_

House scooped the feline up and shut the door with his cane. He held Mick close to his face, looking the kitten square in the eye.

"This is all your fault."

**House, MD**

He watched his prey with a keen, hunter's eye. Swiftly and silently, he darted to the dark shadows, concealing his position. His senses were on full alert, and he waited patiently for the right moment to strike. The target turned its back on him, unsuspecting, and the hunter prepared to attack, every muscle in his body tense. The quarry turned again, and made to move away from him, still unaware that he was being stalked.

The hunter launched himself into action in one smooth motion, the elegant grace of his movements rapidly closing the distance between him and his victim. As he neared, he tried to slow but he lost his footing on the slippery surface, and he lost control of his carefully planned attack.

_Bam!_

He crashed into a solid object headlong, and landed in an uncelebratory heap on top of House's shoe.

The diagnostician looked down to see the eight week old kitten staring up at him reprovingly, as though the whole incident was somehow his responsibility.

He bent over and picked the indignant feline up by grasping him around the middle (he had gotten too big to fit in the palm of his hand, but just barely), and gently placed Mick on his left shoulder. The cat had taken to riding around on House's shoulder, despite the fact that the doctor's limping gait tended to upset Mick's balance. As he grew, Mick's stability did as well, and it was almost second nature to the kitten to adjust his position as the shoulder he rode upon moved up and down. He even managed to do so with little use of his claws, much to House's relief.

House told himself that the only reason for even carrying the kitten around was so that he wouldn't have to worry about accidentally hitting him with his cane or stepping on him, and thereby causing himself to trip and possibly fall, which would then cause a tremendous of pain to his leg. It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Mick would rub against his neck and purr in his ear while he was sitting there, and it also had nothing to do with the fact that it felt good to have some sort of tangible contact with another being.

When people are alone all the time, they tend to forget what the sense of touch really does for a person. In the five weeks since finding Mick, House noticed that his apartment didn't seem so barren, that it felt _warmer_ in his place than it had in years. Whether or not House would admit it, the small furry creature was having an impact on his life.

He made it into the kitchen and set about making some coffee before he headed to work. Mick jumped down to the floor from his perch on House's shoulder and sauntered over to his food dish, stopping in front of it and looking at House expectantly as he sat back on his haunches.

"You really need to learn how to use the can opener," House informed Mick as he begrudgingly opened the cabinet containing the cans of cat food. At least it gave him something to do while he waited for the coffee to finish brewing. After opening the can, he plopped the smelly, brown goo unceremoniously into Mick's food dish and threw the can away, trying very hard the whole time to ignore the kitten's adamant rubbing against his legs. "You're a pushy little bastard, aren't you?" House grumbled as he scratched the top of Mick's head affectionately. The only response he got was the sounds of smacking as the kitten wolfed down his food with gusto. "Gonna have to work on those table manners, too." House then shook his head. "Also gonna have to work on talking to the cat. People might think I'm crazy or something."

House drank his coffee, patted Mick on the head, and then left for work in the next fifteen minutes.

**House, MD**

Doctor Eric Foreman was looking over the new patient file that had been hand-delivered by Cuddy herself when House hobbled into the office.

"Whatcha got there, homie G?" House asked with a small smirk. When Foreman first started working for House, that snide comment might have gotten a rise out of him. Now, like so much of the content that came spilling forth from House's mouth, he let it roll right off of him without even blinking.

"Our new case," the younger man answered, not missing a beat. He got up from his normal seat at the conference table and handed House the file. "It's a referral from the clinic." When House rolled his eyes and moved to throw the file onto Foreman's desk, he pressed on quickly. "The patient is experiencing numbness in his extremities and he's beginning to lose his sight; he's been complaining of tunnel vision, and from the time when he came into the clinic to the time when he was referred, his vision went from 20/20 to 20/60. The lapse of time was about a week and a half."

"And no one could figure out why," House grumbled, opening the file with reluctance. His curiosity always got the better of him.

"Oh, and the patient's only nine years old," Doctor Robert Chase spoke up from his position at the entryway, where he'd just walked in to hear the last part of the other two men's conversation.

"Just your type, then, eh?" House quipped, earning himself a glare from the blonde doctor. House smirked at him for a second before returning his attention to the file, reading through it more thoroughly this time, checking for anything his underlings might have missed.

"Where's Cameron?" Foreman asked, looking at Chase expectantly.

"Dunno," the Australian replied, shrugging. "Haven't seen her yet this morning."

"Me either," Foreman said, his brow knitting in concern. "I thought she might've been down in the clinic or something…"

"Nope," Chase put in. "I was just there to check on Tyler and she wasn't there."

"When are they moving him to this floor?"

"The nurses were prepping him when I left…"

House turned abruptly and went into his office without saying a word. He was too busy concentrating on the file he held to be bothered with the all the menial conversation that Wombat and Delinquent were having.

He had only stuck around long enough to hear where Cameron was, anyway. It wasn't like her to be late; she was usually the first person to arrive at the office.

_Bayley, Tyler: Age 9, Weight: 69 lbs. Height 4'7" Symptoms: Painful tingling in the fingers and toes, numbness in arms and legs, headaches, loss of vision. No family history of these symptoms, and seems to have sudden onset. _There were more notes made, but the one at the very bottom caught his eye.

_Refer to Dr. Gregory House._

That little loopy "G"…

So it was Cameron who referred this case.

Then where the hell was she?

Hmm, numbness, loss of vision. It could be MS. But then, they almost always thought it was MS, and it never was. It could also be Type I diabetes, but those symptoms usually occurred in patients who'd had the disease for a while and hadn't been taking care of themselves. Maybe some routine blood tests could help rule it out.

At least he had something to tell the Three Musketeers. House turned a one-eighty to head back into the conference room to tell them his idea and what tests to run when the glass door to his office opened.

_Wham!_

Right into his nose.

House stumbled backwards a few steps and his free hand came up to grasp his nose, the pain etched in his face.

"Oh, my God, House! I'm so sorry!"

Well, at least he'd found Dr. Cameron.

He looked at her briefly to see her concerned expression as she ushered him over to his computer chair before tilting his head back as he sat down on the leather cushions, pinching his nose the entire time. He felt tissues being pressed into the palm of his other hand and he quickly covered his nose with them, hoping to stem the blood flow before it really got started.

"I'll go get you some ice," Cameron said after hovering for a second, her trepidation obvious in her voice and stance.

"It's fine," House replied sharply, his voice somewhat muffled by the tissues. "It's not really that bad." He then realized that they were not alone in the room, and the little incident with the door attracted the attention of Foreman and Chase, who were both now standing there staring at him.

Foreman stood there with his arms crossed, a smirk planted firmly on his face. He was probably more amused that Cameron was so upset about the situation than by anything else, but he was pretty sure that Chase was just plain amused by the fact that House was in pain.

House glared at the Australian.

"I know you get off on pain, but you could please stop staring at me?" House asked, his annoyance at Chase's scrutiny obvious. "I mean, I don't want you to use this as one of your fantasies later…That's just gross." Chase harrumphed and turned away, stalking out of the office to the adjacent room, making House feel loads better. He looked at Foreman, slightly less irked. "And you, go run some blood tests, and make sure to check the kid's blood sugar. Also, see if the family has a history of Type I diabetes."

"If it was such a simple diagnosis, wouldn't the doctor at the clinic have caught that?" Foreman inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"I don't know, why don't we ask the doctor who referred him to us?" He looked pointedly at Cameron, who looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

"How did you…"

"Loopy G's."

"Oh." She looked down, crestfallen. Foreman watched the exchange between them with interest before clearing his throat, hoping to get the conversation back on track.

"Well, I thought of diabetes, too, but his symptoms came on too fast and he's so young…" Cameron trailed off, her confidence withering under House's intense stare.

"Run the tests, Foreman," House ordered without looking at the younger man. "And tell Mr. S & M talk to the family." Foreman stood there for a moment longer before nodding, turning, and leaving, the soft swoosh of the door the only sound he made during his exit.

House took a moment to sum his situation up in his mind.

His nose was probably going to swell up like a big red balloon, his leg hurt from stumbling around after losing his balance when being struck by the door, and he hadn't been alone with Cameron like this since the day she'd come over to his house and fallen asleep on his shoulder. They'd hardly even shared a single word with each other that didn't have to do with work, and when they did, it was usually her inquiring after little Mick Jagger. He'd had the sense that she'd been avoiding him, but five weeks was verging on the ridiculous. And now, here he was, finally alone with her, and all he was doing was staring at her.

Speak, say something, anything!

"You've been avoiding me," he stated, finally breaking the strange, uncomfortable silence that had befallen his office.

"I…Well…"

"What I want to know is why," he interjected before she either A) made up some lame excuse or B) apologized in that annoyingly nice way of hers. Her lower lip was currently being chewed by very straight, white teeth as she looked away, unable to withstand the force of his gaze.

"Well, um, I thought…" Her voice died again before she could form a full sentence.

"You thought what?" He asked impatiently.

"I thought you wanted space, so I was giving it to you," she responded almost instantly. Half-truths were almost as bad as lies, sometimes.

She certainly wouldn't have made it through the Spanish Inquisition.

"Space from what? _You're_ the one that wanted space," he reminded her, his tone somewhat biting. She nodded in understanding, which confused him more, but it didn't take him long to figure out what she really meant. "So basically you're saying that _you_ needed space," he said as he shook his head, more to himself than to her. "For five weeks." When she made no reply other than to stand there dumbly, he blew out a frustrated breath between pursed lips.

What on Earth did she need "space" from? All she'd done was cuddle with him on his couch and kiss him on the cheek when she left. Nothing too embarrassing, nothing to indicate to him that five weeks of silence would be following shortly thereafter. "Fine, go have some _space_ in the lab." He waved his cane at her, a gesture telling her he'd tired of her presence.

He didn't miss the forlorn expression she gave him just before she crossed the threshold to the hallway. He also didn't miss how his heart sunk into the bowels of his stomach.

And people thought _he_ gave mixed signals.

**House, MD**

Cameron was peering at a blood sample through a microscope in the lab when Foreman walked in holding a file. She glanced up at him to acknowledge his presence, but she immediately turned her attention back to her work without even saying so much as a greeting.

"Here's some of the results from the other blood tests," he said as he laid them near her on the bench. "Tyler's blood sugar is a little out of whack, but it's in within acceptable parameters." She finally turned and looked at him. "His pancreas is making insulin, as well, so it can't be Type I, and he's not overweight, so it's highly unlikely that it's Type II…"

"Could his kidneys be causing the problem?" She inquired.

"Or maybe MS? That could explain the tingling sensation, and the loss of vision…"

"But he's so young!" Cameron exclaimed.

"I know, it's unlikely to develop the disease at that age, but it has been known to happen," Foreman stated matter-of-factly.

"Then go run the tests to check your theory." The deep timbre of the voice coming from the doorway made Cameron shiver. She wondered how long House had been listening to them before making his presence known. Cameron felt a slight wave of guilt when she saw his nose, still red and still a little swollen from Operation: Whammo earlier that morning. She also had to suppress a grin when she realized how silly he looked with that nose and that serious expression. It was like looking at a frowning clown.

Foreman looked from House to Cameron, giving her a slightly concerned look. He was probably wondering why House was bothering her so much as of late. She gave him an almost imperceptible shake of her head, letting him know it was okay, before he gave her one last look as he left the lab to go get samples for more tests. Cameron turned back to her work even though the test she was running had to do with diabetes and that had been ruled out.

She needed to have something to look at other than the man who could make her nervous just by being in the same room.

It took her a second to realize that this was the second time in one day that they were alone together, and she also picked up on the fact that _he_ had sought _her_ out.

That didn't happen very often.

And the last time that it had, there hadn't been a happy ending for those involved. Cameron didn't think that that was going to change this time around either.

"People often don't really need as much space as they might think," House told her. "And I think you've had too much space. So, as a result of your oversight, you have to be reprimanded." Her eyes locked with his, widening in fear in anticipation of what he might say next and narrowing in anger for him making this personal issue interfere with their professional lives.

"Reprimanded?" She demanded hotly. "I've done nothing wrong! I've consulted you on cases, I've participated in diagnoses…" She began ticking off the reasons he was insane on her fingers. "I've been to work on time…"

"You assaulted your boss with a glass door…" He interrupted, pointing to his nose. "So, I've decided that there's only one thing that fits your transgression." He paused for dramatic effect, letting her worry some more before… "Dinner."

"Um…P-pardon?" She sputtered. "Din-dinner? You're telling me you're going to punish me for acting professionally for the past few weeks by taking me to dinner?"

"Apparently you're not the only one who bribes people into dates around here," he responded, intrigued by the way her eyes could express so many emotions all at once; fear, rage, elation, giddiness, confusion and…an expression he did not expect: remorse.

House was hoping that during all this turmoil boiling within her, she would fail to notice how he was nervously clenching his jaw, how he thumping his cane on the floor with rhythmic unease.

Unfortunately for him, but fortunately for her, and fortunately for us, she did notice. She processed this information slowly, her hands clenching and unclenching in time with the cogs in her mind, slowly working their way around the puzzle that is House.

She decided to test him.

"What are my alternatives?" _I'm not afraid of you_. She lifted her chin defiantly.

"There are none." _You should be_. He lowered his chin and stared hard at her from under hooded lids.

"What if I say no?" _I know your game_.

"You won't." _You don't know Jack, missy_.

Before she could continue on her tirade, he said, "My place, Friday, seven o'clock. Bring that take-out you promised five weeks ago." He turned and quickly left the lab without a backwards glance, leaving her with no room for argument. Cameron realized that she had just been blindsided by the man she swore would never date ever again, but she couldn't help but be completely taken by surprise by this sudden turn of events.

Was this _really_ how he asked women out?

No wonder House never had dates.

**House, MD**

When House arrived home that night, he found Mick perched on the piano, looking at the keys keenly, as though willing it to play him a melody. He remembered how the kitten had been deathly afraid of the large musical apparatus at first, running for cover the first time House had played for him.

Not exactly a great reception, but Mick's courage had grown nonetheless, and and eventually started seating himself on the piano whenever House sat on the piano seat.

House was brought back to the present when he heard the sound of a note being played as he took off his jacket and hung it on the hook by the door. His amusement increased tenfold when he looked back to the kitten to see Mick's outstretched, white-toed paw dangling over a key, as though he'd surprised himself by causing that sound. House grinned and shook his head bemusedly.

Mick looked up at House with big, yellow eyes as the man approached him and sat on the bench in front of the baby grand. The doctor leant his cane against the bench and spread his fingers over the keys, working the joints of his fingers experimentally before he began to make music with the beautiful black and off-white ivory keys.

The notes danced through the air effortlessly. Mick watched House's fingers intently as they played over the instrument, gliding fluidly and flawlessly as they created a story written entirely in treble and bass, sharp and flat, the opposites coming together to create beautiful harmony that flowed into the triangular ears of the cat held spellbound by the melody.

In the world of music, opposites need each other so desperately in order to survive. Without the other, there would nothing to compare or test, nothing with which to alter or combine.

There would be no way to love or hate music, because it would lack depth and would only contain shallow feeling.

Sometimes, music and life collide in such a way that it brings about the greatest of change in people.

You could choose to love, or to hate.

House made his decision.

Mick curled up and was lulled to sleep by the song woven by his human.


	4. The AirSpeed Velocity of Snowflakes

**Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. Don't get your panties all in a bunch about borrowing the characters and messing around with them either. I'll put them back when I'm done. Honest.**

**Title: Warm and Fuzzy**

**Author: DragonChaos**

**Feedback: Sure! Love to hear your thoughts.**

**Author's Note: Holy crap it's been forever since I've updated. Life has been keeping me on my toes and away from my muse it seems, but I really have been trying folks. My laptop upon which I keep most of my stories crapped out on me and I lost all of my data, including some other stories I'd been working on, so I lost a good deal of motivation for a while thanks to that. However, I'm now back in the saddle, and I hope you enjoy this chapter. **

**I know it makes me giggle like a little school girl.**

**A big huge thank-you to all of my reviewers. I love hearing what you guys think, bad or good, and many of you gave me lots of encouragement in what we will now refer to as "The Dark Times". Thanks again, and please, by all means, keep it up!**

**Chapter Summary: Getting warmer…**

**Chapter Four: The Air-Speed Velocity of Snowflakes**

"So, let me get this straight," Doctor James Wilson said with a smile in his voice. "_You_, the cynical old man who told her the only reason that she wanted to date you was to fix you, asked, no, _blackmailed_ her into a date?"

"I'd thank you to not remind me of my age," House responded acridly.

"Then you admit to manipulating her?" Wilson was incredulous. "You know, she _could_ sue you for sexual harassment."

"Oh, she won't sue me. She's Doctor Fricken' Cameron, AKA Patron Saint of Forgiveness and Niceness. She'll never sue anyone for anything because she'll always assume that whatever it was that went wrong or was bad was somehow her fault." House continued to limp down the corridor of PPTH to the exit, wishing he hadn't said a word of what happened that morning to his supposed "best friend", who of course was now squawking so loudly that the entire nursing staff would have gossip material for weeks, possibly months. "And will you _shut up_? Cuddy might hear you and…Aw crap."

_Clip-clop, clip-clop._

House made a face at Wilson before he rounded on the approaching tell-tale heels and the woman wearing them.

"And where do you think _you're_ going, House?" She asked loudly. Wilson had the decency to give him an apologetic look before shrugging and walking away, leaving House to fly the Whirlwind solo.

Oh, _joy_.

"Doctor Cuddy, I was just talking about you," House put on his best innocent face.

Well, okay, not his _best_ innocent face. And maybe it wasn't even an innocent one.

"I'm sure they were all good things," Cuddy said as she gave him a pointed look before continuing. "It's 4:00pm. You're not off for another hour. You have clinic duty." She pushed a chart into his chest and stalked away, a smirk on plastered on her face.

Cuddy: 1, House: 0.

Time to even the score.

"Look, I know you haven't gotten any for a while, but you can at least stop taking it out on the rest of us!" House called after her retreating form. She didn't even falter. He was hoping for even the slightest pause in her step, but to no avail. The only response he got was the rolling of eyes at the nurse station, where his antics were too well-known to cause any shock factor to the staff.

Damn.

His only consolation prize was the mother gasping and covering her child's ears whilst giving him a "Thou'st art a worshipper of Satan!" look.

Well, if couldn't back at her verbally, he could do it another way. He looked down at his watch.

"4:03pm, Doctor House checks in," House told the nurse before setting the chart on the countertop. He stood there for about a minute before saying, "4:04pm, Doctor House checks out."

The mother who'd previously been shooting him daggers looked relieved upon his exiting the hospital, and little did she know it'd been her file he'd given back to the nurse.

If only she knew how lucky she was.

**House, MD**

Foreman and Cameron were in the lab running the tests on Foreman's suggestion of MS. The work was slow, as the machines doing the calculations were taking their sweet time analyzing the new round of samples. They were both bored, but neither was talking; Cameron because she didn't want to reveal anything about her encounter with House by accidentally saying something and Foreman because he didn't want to seem overbearing and protective.

However, Foreman's need to do what is right soon overcame his need to keep his nose out of something that wasn't his business.

"Has House been bothering you lately?" Foreman inquired casually, trying to hide his instinctive concern for Cameron. "He seems to be getting on your case a lot, lately."

"He's just being House, Foreman," she replied. "You don't need to beat him up on the playground after school or anything on my behalf." She gave him a knowing grin and Foreman hung his head for a moment before glancing back up at her.

"Look, I'm just making sure…"

"That I don't get hurt. I know. Relax. I'm a big girl. I can tie my own shoes and everything," she walked past him to the exit, pausing at the door.

"Where are…"

"I need to go home. I've had a long day. You can handle this by yourself, right Eric?" She smiled sweetly and left before he could answer.

Foreman looked around for a few seconds before he realized he'd been had. Damn those self-help books.

**House, MD**

Cameron took out her stress on her treadmill, her feet pounding into it menacingly, each step a way of her trying to stamp out her anger at herself. She'd made a promise to herself to not get swept up by the stormy winds of one moody Doctor Gregory House. She already knew what he really thought of her; naïve, needy, weak…Just to name a few.

But if all that were true, why would he ask her out now, after all this time?

Whatever he was planning, whatever tricks he had up his sleeve, she wasn't going to play into his hand again.

Cameron made a decision. If House wanted to manipulate her into a date, then she wasn't going to play by his rules.

**House, MD**

It was Wednesday, and it was eight o'clock at night.

Cameron stood outside House's door dressed in a pair of faded jeans and a peasant shirt, holding a plastic bag full of Chinese take-out. Thoughts were racing through her mind a mile a minute.

_What if he isn't home, or is with another woman? What if he slams the door in my face?_

She let out a shaky breath and brushed her long, auburn hair away from her face.

It doesn't matter if he slams the door or not. You are going to do this. Cameron, you are…

The door swung open.

In an automatic defensive motion, Cameron swiftly lifted the bag of food up so that it was between her and House like a paper and plastic shield.

House leant against the doorframe, eyeing her with a mix of animosity and interest, taking in the plastic bag she held in front of her, the wonderful smells emanating from it, and the fear in her eyes.

But there was something else waiting there in those green-blue depths.

Determination.

"What are you doing here?"

"Bringing you take-out, like I said I would," she said simply, her arm tiring from holding the sack between them.

"I said Friday," House replied, dipping his chin to his chest and narrowing his eyes.

"Yes, and we're still doing that. I, however, am hungry now, and when I told you that I was going to come back over, I didn't specify a date or time. So, here I am."

He folded his arms across his chest, his jaw working thoughtfully, ice blue eyes calculating.

_Miaoow?_

Cameron and House looked down simultaneously to see Mick sitting at House's feet, looking up at the stranger curiously with golden eyes.

"Wow, he's gotten big!" She said as she let her arm and the bag fall back to her side. She set it on the ground next to her and knelt down, extending her arm out once again. "Hello again, Mick." She raised her hands to the kitten's nose so he could sniff her, and he studied her for a few seconds before he began to lick her fingers and purr. She giggled slightly, but a 'harrumph' caught her attention and she looked up to see House glaring at her.

"Are you going to come in or are you going to make me stand out here all night?" He demanded with a scowl. She couldn't help the grin that spread across her face, so she tried to cover it by acting busy with her shoelaces.

"Is that an invitation?" She asked boldly. House was a little taken aback by the strength of her voice. Not the normal timidity that her tone usually carried, at least in these situations.

Instead of a response, he sighed loudly and stepped back, holding the door open for her and scooting the kitten back inside with his foot. Mick obliged with an abrupt _Mew!_ and trotted back inside, Cameron following him inside quickly. She set the bag on the table and threw her coat onto the couch before turning her attention back to the take-out food. She heard the door close and House limping up behind her and felt him stop just inches from her.

She could feel the heat of his body he was so close, but she refused to turn around and play his game.

"Do you want lo mein or fried rice?" She asked, busying herself with opening the Chinese take-out boxes.

"Lo mein," he responded in a tone that Cameron swore was lilted with disappointment as he turned and shuffled off to the kitchen to get some plates. "What else did you get?"

"I brought…" She paused a moment and looked into the boxes. "Broccoli chicken, lo mein, pork fried rice, egg foo young, and sweet and sour pork. I wasn't sure what you liked, exactly, so I brought a bunch of different things." House didn't reply, but she heard him open and close a few cupboards and drawers before watching him limp back into the dining room holding two plates and two set of rather nice-looking chopsticks, much fancier than the pull-apart cheap ones that came with the food.

Mick chose that moment to jump up onto the table to inspect all the new delicious smells coming from the boxes. Cameron smiled at him and his curiosity, not in the least bit worried about his behavior, but House shooed him away and back down to the floor.

"He's too damn nosy. Gets into everything," House muttered under his breath, and Cameron couldn't stop the little twitch at the corners of her mouth.

Sucks when you're on the receiving end of that, eh, House?

"Oh, and for future reference, I hate egg foo young," he told her as he piled a little bit of from each of the boxes, except the fried rice and egg foo young, onto his plate.

_Future reference?_

She smirked at his attempt at subtlety.

"Well, that's good," she said lightly. "More for me, then." She dumped out a healthy amount of the egg patties onto her plate and little samplings of the other choices. She headed into the living room and plopped down onto his couch after setting her plate on the coffee table. "I brought the food, you pick the movie," she said as she gestured to his expansive DVD collection arranged haphazardly on some shelves next to the television.

"There are rules, now?" He asked as he placed his plate next to Cameron's and headed back into the kitchen.

"Well, I guess I could…"

"No, I better choose. You might pick something 'uber' girly and I would get cavities," House said with pseudo alarm in his voice, and Cameron merely rolled her eyes in response. He opened the refrigerator. "Beer?" He asked loudly as he ducked his head into the icebox.

"Sure," she called back as she began eating her food. He returned shortly with two open bottles of beer and grabbed a DVD from his collection. House popped it in the DVD drive, turned on the TV, and sat down heavily onto the couch. He handed one of the bottles to her and took a long swig of his own before setting it down on the coffee table. "So, what are we watching?"

"Just a little movie I like to call the "Holy Grail" of all movies," he told her dramatically. He grabbed the remote and clicked the 'play' button, starting the movie. It wasn't long before Cameron recognized the opening credits for _Monty Python and the Search for the Holy Grail_. She laughed and took a drink of her beer before settling in for a good time and getting comfortable. House had to smile at her enthusiasm.

It takes a special kind of person to appreciate the Monty Python humor.

Mick attempted to jump up onto the couch, but he only made it part way and was forced to climb the rest of the distance.

"I really hope he learns how to jump higher, soon," House muttered. "My couch can't take much more of this abuse." Cameron appeared to ignore his grousing, as she seemed completely engrossed by the movie. She even jumped in shock when Mick cautiously stepped onto her lap and began hunting around for the best place to curl up. She smiled softly at him as she began to stroke his soft kitten fur, scratching underneath his chin for good measure.

House once again caught himself staring at her and tried to look away, but it seemed impossible. It was like she had bewitched him; that look on her face, the one of utter adoration and peacefulness that she had currently directed at the kitten, held him spellbound. He watched, helpless, as his hand reached up underneath her chin and nudged ever so gently so that she was looking at him. He didn't really know why he did it; his brain was screaming at his hand to stop, but all he really knew was that right then, at that moment, he wanted her to look at him the same way she'd been looking at the cat a few seconds before.

Unfortunately, the peacefulness faded to confusion at his sudden strange behavior, and the adoration changed to apprehensiveness.

This, of course, was entirely the opposite reaction he'd wanted.

An argument about the air speed velocities of swallows played as background noise whilst House and Cameron stared at each other; she paralyzed by fear and he immobilized by indecisiveness.

A knock on the door saved them both.

House dropped his hand and got up so fast he had a slight head rush. In his effort to get away very quickly from a very awkward situation, he almost left his cane behind as he made his way to the door. Cameron remained rooted to the spot, seemingly dazed as she stared blankly at the television screen.

House's thoughts turned to the visitor on the other side of the door.

Whoever it was deserved a giant hug…

House flung open the door.

…Unless of course it was Wilson waiting on the other side, also holding a bag filled with take-out food.

Awkward situation, Round Two…_Ding!_

"Hey, I come bearing gifts of…" Wilson started to say before House slammed the door in his face. "…Ok…aaaay…." Wilson paused, startled by this odd behavior, before shouting, "House! Open the door! I have free food!"

"Go away, I'm not home!" Came House's muffled reply.

"I know that trick!" Wilson shouted back. He started banging on the door, but then he heard another voice so he paused to listen closer.

"What is going on?" A feminine voice asked concernedly. "You scared Mick when you slammed the door…"

"Just some bratty neighbor kid…" The deeper voice of House replied.

"House!" Wilson began beating the door with an open palm, and when the door swung open again he almost smacked Cameron on her forehead, but luckily she dodged the attack before contact was made. "D…Doctor Cameron?" Wilson immediately looked behind her to House for an explanation, but House was currently looking down at his feet, off to the side, anywhere but Wilson, so he was forced to settle with the shorter (and the more attractive, Wilson thought) brunette in front of him.

"Hi, Wilson," Cameron said sheepishly, a blush tingeing her fair cheeks.

"…Hi…" Wilson knew they were supposed to be going on a date, but… "What are you doing here?" He decided to resort to bluntness, seeing as how that was apparently how Cameron got her jollies and was most likely to respond positively.

"Um…I, uh…I was just leaving."

Well, so much for that positive response.

Cameron walked briskly back inside and grabbed her purse. In less than a minute, she was walking between the two men, both of whom were still standing in House's doorway. She muttered a quick goodnight and continued her swift retreat out the door and down the hall. She was moving so fast, House knew she was going to break into a run as soon as she felt she was out of his line sight. He kept his eyes on her form until she disappeared around a corner before he turned an icy stare at Wilson.

"Don't even try to blame me for that!" Wilson exclaimed.

"You scared her off," House growled as he turned around to head back into his apartment. He half-heartedly tried to shut the door in Wilson's face, but the younger doctor followed him anyway.

"You didn't try to stop her," Wilson retorted. "If you were really trying to 'get your _groove_ on', I highly doubt you would have let that happen." House made no reply, and instead chose to ignore his friend. Wilson watched House's reactions to his words, and suddenly he was hit with an epiphany. "You _let_ her go because you didn't _want _her here in the first place."

Silence. Wilson knew he'd hit the nail on the head.

"I thought you asked her out on a date?"

"I did." House turned abruptly and stalked towards the hutch where he kept his Scotch.

"But I thought it was for Friday?"

"It was."

"Then what was she…"

"She came over unannounced." House took a moment to send another chilling glare at Wilson via his reflection in the glass on the hutch cabinet door.

"Ahh, I can see clearly now, the rain is gone," Wilson quipped. "She ruined your plan, didn't she? Our little Cameron, all grown up." He sniffed and pretended to wipe away a tear for dramatic effect. House scoffed and poured himself a drink, keeping his back to Wilson as though to ward off any truths that might be forthcoming, as they usually were when they had these kinds of conversations. "So, are you still going to have that date on Friday?"

"What _are_ you doing here? Is there a "bring House take-out" holiday I was unaware of? I say it's about damn time you brought your god some decent offerings. You measly mortals don't know the crap I have to put up with…"

"You didn't answer my question."

House took a sip of his scotch, enjoying the feeling of the thick, amber liquid burning its way down his throat.

"All right, fine," Wilson set down the food on the counter and made his way back to the door. "I just came by to warn you that Cuddy was slightly unhappy about your lack of clinic hours, and she was _more_ than slightly unhappy about that little stunt you pulled today."

"Since when is she _not_ unhappy about my lack of clinic hours? And since when do you not know how to use a phone?"

With one final hard look, Wilson opened the door and walked out, closing it quietly behind him.

Damn Wilson and his passive aggressive behavior.

House finally turned around to survey the damage. The Chinese food Cameron brought him was still sitting on the plates on the coffee table. The Thai food Wilson brought him was already getting cold, and was left sitting precariously on the ledge of his kitchen countertop. One bump from a certain overly curious kitten and House would no doubt have chicken curry all over his floor.

He took a large gulp of his scotch, emptying the glass, and then started putting the Chinese food away. At least he would have a decent lunch and dinner the next day.

He heard a soft thump and turned to see Mick padding across the living room floor over to the couch. House figured he'd been hiding up behind the piano and had finally deemed it safe to come back out.

"Scaredy cat," House grumbled. Mick didn't even bother to grace him with an indignant glance, however, as he seemed like he was fixed on his destination. He scrambled up onto the couch and curled up on what looked strangely like Cameron's coat.

Ah, _hell_.

**House, MD**

The snow fell softly on the cold December night, and it had immediately reminded Cameron of the article of clothing she'd accidentally left behind in House's apartment in her haste to leave.

Now, she sat in her car with the heat on full blast, but she had yet to drive anywhere.

Cameron wasn't sure why she was still sitting in her car in the parking lot of House's apartment complex, but she _was_ sure that her excuse was a really lame one.

"Oh, House, I forgot my coat…Mind if I come in and get it?" She mocked herself out loud in a rather whiny voice.

In truth, she really did want to get her coat back, if only for the sake of avoiding him making a scene about it the next morning the in conference room

She could picture it now:

"_Cameron, you left this over at my place last night," House would say loudly as he tossed her coat onto her lap. Foreman and Chase would both look at her strangely; Chase with a bit of jealousy and contempt and Foreman with a bit of disappointment. House would then of course laugh his ass off about the whole thing at her expense…_

Wait a minute…

She squinted her eyes and wondered if her eyes were playing tricks on her, but indeed what she was seeing was Wilson heading to his car. She slid down in her seat in the hopes that he wouldn't notice her and think that someone was just warming up their car or something. She was in luck; Wilson appeared to be upset about something and it seemed he wasn't in a very observational state. She watched carefully as he climbed into his car, started the ignition, and pulled out of his parking space at a rather alarming speed. Cameron raised her eyebrows.

Apparently, her leaving like that caused a few ripples.

When he was down the road a ways, she sat up straighter and gripped the steering wheel. Once again, she found herself struggling with her courage. She weighed her options.

On the one hand, she could drive home to the safety of her little abode and just settle for a little embarrassment the next morning. On the other hand, she could march her butt right back up there and ask for her coat back in a very professional and daring way, proving to House once and for all that she wasn't afraid of him.

Oh, but the first option sounds much easier…

She clenched the steering wheel one last time before taking her key out of the ignition and opening her door. She stepped out onto the snow and quietly crunched her way over to the entryway to the apartment building House lived in. She was about to walk up the steps to the doorway when she hear the glass door swing open with a squeak. She looked up quickly, startled, and saw House coming down the slippery steps very carefully, dressed in his overcoat and a scarf.

The other thing she noticed was her coat safely tucked under his arm.

House felt the hairs on the back of his neck perk up and he caught of whiff of perfume…

_Her_ perfume.

His gaze shot up and immediately locked onto hers, and not for the first time that evening, he saw fear glittering in her eyes.

What was she so damned afraid of?

Since she appeared to have been struck dumb by his sudden appearance, he decided to speak:

"You left this in my apartment," he said gruffly as he held the coat out to her. She stared at it stupidly for a few moments and didn't respond. "Hello! Earth to Cameron!"

"Oh!" She jumped a little and reached out to take the coat. "Um, thanks…I was, um, coming back up to get it…"

"Yeah, I gathered that," he said tersely. She looked down at her shoes to avoid his piercing, chilling stare.

Cameron briefly wondered if there had once been a time when warmth had radiated from those beautiful eyes, rather than the cold hardness that she knew so well.

"People usually put coats on when it's snowing." Once again she started, but she nodded in acknowledgement and quickly went about putting her coat back on.

Snowflakes caught in her auburn hair glinted in the moonlight, giving her a small halo effect that made her pink cheeks look even softer.

House limped a step closer and she eyed him carefully, frozen to the spot.

"What are you so afraid of?" He asked abruptly. She was disconcerted by his ability to read her so well, but answered anyway.

"Falling for you again."

Another step.

"Is that why you needed _space_?" His emphasis on the word made her cringe.

"I was trying to figure out…"

House took one more step and there bodies were just inches apart. He could feel the heat emanating from her body even though she'd been without a coat in the freezing cold just moments before.

"Trying to figure out what?" He prompted.

"What you want from me." She finally pulled herself together enough to look him square in the eye, defying his next move.

"What I want…" House placed a cold, calloused hand on her warm, reddened cheek. "Is for you to not be afraid anymore."

She lent into his hand and closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of his palm against her skin. His thumb moved to caress her cheekbone and she opened her eyes at his affectionate gesture.

There, that look. It was the one he'd been craving since he saw her look at the kitten that way, since he'd seen her look at almost anyone that wasn't him that way.

House couldn't take it anymore, couldn't resist.

He shifted his weight onto his good leg and dropped his cane, freeing up his other hand to cup the back of her head. The rational voice in his head immediately stopped talking when his lips finally made contact with hers.

Cameron's lips were yielding, warm, and oh-so soft.

He knew she would be a good kisser…but _damn_.

House's tongue swept across her lips, a silent plea for more. Cameron obliged.

As the kiss deepened, it became more urgent, and she brought her hands up to run them through his already mussed-up hair. They found there way to the back of his head and she ran her nails down to where his occipital lobe meets the neck, making him shudder, before continuing the journey over his broad shoulders, finally coming to rest on his chest, gripping the wool fabric of his coat.

His hands roamed everywhere, first her neck and shoulders, then down her arms and sides, and he couldn't stop them from lightly squeezing her firm ass before forcing them to return to her hips and lower back.

The feel of his stubble scratching her cheeks and chin and nose sent chills up and down her spine and she was suddenly taken over by a single thought:

_Please, don't ever shave, House…_

Both of their bodies pressed closer to the other in the attempt to get as intimate as possible. Both of their bodies said the same thing:

Want. You. So. _Much._

It was in this moment House's leg reminded him that he was indeed still standing on the ground and that he was definitely still crippled.

He gasped in pain and immediately grabbed his leg as it cramped. He stepped back from his also heavily breathing companion to sit down on the cold cement step to get some weight off of his offending leg.

Cameron's hand never left his shoulder.

She knelt down in front of him and picked up his cane from where he'd dropped it in the snow. House watched her every movement with a heated stare, the pain not nearly enough to make him forget how she'd felt in his arms mere seconds before.

"Here," she said quietly as she handed him his cane. They both said nothing for a few moments, until Cameron spoke up again, "I should probably go." She gave his shoulder a squeeze and turned away, heading for her car.

House cursed his leg and pushed himself up, limping after her, determined to not let his injury prevent him from having what he wanted.

"Cameron!" His voice seemed muffled by the snow, and she didn't turn to look at him. She made to her car and he sped up his hobbling, despite the twinge he felt with every step. "Allison!" She stopped all movements and watched as he approached. When he reached her, he grabbed her hand firmly, not allowing her to leave. "I…You..." He stammered, trying to catch his breath. "You're…Do you still want to do something Friday night?" She looked taken aback, but happily so.

Cameron nodded.

"Good, bring something nice to wear to the hospital, we'll leave from there," he told her. She smiled brightly at him and stood on her tip-toes to kiss him lightly before opening the door to her car and getting in. She started the ignition and pulled out quickly, leaving House standing in the falling snow.

A smile cracked his features as he watched her drive away.

**House, MD**

Down the street, in a brown sedan, a certain oncologist wondered if he could believe what he'd just seen, or what he was seeing, for that matter.

"House," Wilson said with a wicked grin. "You're _so_ in for it, now."

**House, MD**

After a few minutes of standing outside, grinning like an idiot, House's adrenaline slowed down enough for him to realize a simple fact:

It was frickin' cold outside.

So, with great reluctance and a few vicodin in his system, he made his way back up to his apartment. When he opened the door, the place smelled suspiciously of curry and chicken…

House spied the source on the floor just beneath the counter. There lay a heap of plastic bag, paper bag, napkins, and chicken curry, with the curry sauce still dripping from the opened containers. There were little tiny teeth marks on the edges of the boxes' openings, and House glanced around quickly for the culprit.

There, sitting on House's piano bench, licking his chops and staring right back at House, was one black and white kitten that didn't even have the decency to look guilty.

"You, my friend, are lucky I'm in a _very_ good mood."


	5. Of Zombies and Laughter

**Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. Don't get your panties all in a bunch about borrowing the characters and messing around with them either. I'll put them back when I'm done. Honest.**

**Title: Warm and Fuzzy**

**Author: DragonChaos**

**Feedback: Sure! Love to hear your thoughts.**

**Author's Note: So I went to Japan for a couple of months…Sorry I didn't tell you guys I was going there, but there were so many things I had to take care of before I left that I forgot to leave a note on my story saying I was going to be MIA in a different country for a while. Also doesn't help that when I came back school started AND my damn laptop was on the fritz… Anyway, I have been working on this chapter for a while now, hoping to live up to the past couple of chapters. Enjoy! I will attempt to get the next chapter out sooner, real life permitting.**

**EDIT: I read through it again (4th time) and was horrified by how many mistakes there were…So I went through and edited some stuff. Should make for a smoother read, now.**

**Chapter Summary: The "date" begins. Oh noes! **

**/wink**

**Chapter Five: Of Zombies and Laughter**

The days passed swiftly, and Friday afternoon found the team still in the dark about what was wrong with the little boy with diabetic symptoms and no diabetes. Foreman's idea of MS turned out to be wrong, which was unfortunate, but House at least got some enjoyment out of the fact that his subordinate was once again off the mark. However, despite that little joy in House's life, all it really meant was that the ducklings had to run more and more tests, and the current test of the day was an LP being performed by Foreman. At that point, however, House was out of ideas. So, this meant he was both annoyed _and _bored.

A very dangerous and volatile combination.

So, at the moment, House tried to stave off his boredom and irritation by killing some zombies on his Game Boy. It helped him to think somewhat, clear his head and forget for a while so he could come back to the table later with a fresh mind and new ideas. But for some reason, this time, he just kept getting more and more agitated.

He was trying to convince himself that his irritation wasn't coming from his nervous anticipation of the date he had with Cameron that night….

No! Mustn't think about that.

Die, zombies, _die!_

His mood improved slightly, especially when he imagined Cuddy as the zombies. After all, they did somewhat resemble her in the way they wandered around looking for him so they could do horrible things to him, like turn him into another zombie. Or worse…

Eat his brains.

The sound of laughter drifted to him. No, not just any laughter…_her_ laughter. His ice blue eyes hunted for the source of the beautiful sound and they found their mark quickly. His stomach did a teeny-tiny little flip-flop when he saw her eyes dancing with mirth and her cheeks a little rosy from laughing. It reminded him of the way she had looked that night in the snow…

But then, his eyes narrowed sharply and the warm feeling in his stomach turned to ice when he saw the cause of her acting in such a way:

_Chase_.

The Australian bastard was making her _laugh_. And the smug expression Chase wore made House want to break something, namely the young doctor's face.

He tore his gaze away from the scene and promptly killed several more zombies.

All of them had Australian accented moans and wavy blonde hair.

He was soon interrupted by the sound of glass on carpet, however, and he didn't have to look up to know who walked into his office. He listened to her soft footsteps move across the carpet towards his inbox.

"Having fun out there?" House asked, a little too sharply and bitterly for it to be just a casual question, his attention appearing to remain focused on his handheld game. Cameron's House-attuned hearing caught onto these little warning signs as her steps paused briefly at his sudden inquiry and picked up on a very important fact:

House was jealous.

"Actually, yes," she answered lightly, pretending not to notice him shift uncomfortably in his chair. "Would you like to come join us?" She asked him with a big smile, though his eyes appeared to never leave the small Game Boy screen long enough to notice.

"Actually, no," he growled in response. "I can't stand blondes. They make horrible conversation and they make me ill."

"Well, Wilson's kind of blonde…"

"My point exactly." He finally looked up to see her grinning at him with the most annoying, knowing look on her face.

She knew.

House puffed out his cheeks and blew out a breath.

"What do you say we start our date early?" She looked at him for a very long moment, as though deciding something. Should she give in and play it his way? Was he toying with her again? He looked back at her, a trace of impatience in his eyes, but she wasn't sure what to make of how he was looking at her. He was…Nervous?

He'd never looked at her that way before…

"Let me go change." She turned and left the room, and he watched through the glass walls as she gathered her bag and purse and headed out the conference door, saying something to Chase as she walked out of the room. After she was out of sight, the hairs on the back of House's neck prickled and he looked over to see Chase staring at him with his sky blue eyes. Animosity was sparkling there, bright and intense.

House smirked.

**House, MD**

Cameron returned to the conference room about fifteen minutes later dressed in an elegant dark green silk dress that stopped just above the knee and had a modest neckline with earrings and shoes to match. It was a simple getup, but since House hadn't really specified with exactly how formal the place he was taking her to was, she decided to play it safe in the middle ground. She decided to let her hair be loose instead of putting it in a messy bun, since it seemed to fit the look she was going for.

Chase sucked in a breath upon her entrance, and gave a low whistle.

"Got a hot date tonight?"

"Oh yeah, I hear he's a great catch," House said as he limped into the conference room from his office. "All the girls are after him." He was wearing khaki slacks and a black suit jacket over a dark blue button-up shirt. "You clean up nicely, Cameron. I guess you'll do as my date for that conference." Cameron paused and glared at him for a moment, thinking for a split second that this whole thing had just been a trick to get her to go to a mundane conference so he wouldn't be alone. But lo, her fears were soon put to rest when House did yet another very uncharacteristic thing.

He winked at her.

"Yeah, well, you know me," Cameron replied nonchalantly. "I like to get all 'dolled' up for the bigwigs."

"What conference?" Chase asked abruptly. "I haven't heard of any conference…?"

"Sorry, it's an American-only conference," House answered with a sneer. "No Aussie's allowed." Foreman chose that moment to walk into the conference room and heard the tail end of House's response. He opened his mouth to speak, but House stopped him. "And no blacks allowed either. The committee of the conference decided that they didn't want you people coming in and stealing all our women." House shrugged, as though helpless, and once again interjected before Foreman could say a word, grabbing his shoulder and gripping it, as though he were comforting Foreman. "Sorry, homie." With that, he grabbed Cameron's elbow and steered her out the door.

They reached the elevator rather quickly due to House's fast limping and the persistent hand that never left Cameron's elbow. Once they were inside, Cameron deemed it safe enough to query her boss and wrenched her arm from his grasp so she could face him.

"So, is it going to be like this every time you ask me out?" She looked up and regarded him coolly.

"Like what?" At first, he didn't look at her and stared straight ahead at the silver elevator doors. However, when his only response was resounding silence, he chanced a sidelong glance and saw her staring at him, unflinching and unblinking. He sighed loudly and shifted his body so he was facing her, leaning heavily on his cane. "Look, do you really want those nosy dimwits to know that we're going on a date? Do you remember what happened last time you blabbed to them?"

"They're not dimwits," she replied hotly, to which House responded with a roll of his eyes. "At least not so dimwitted that your lame excuses didn't fool them."

Typical Cameron; coming to the defense of others instead of focusing on the issue at hand.

"And besides," she added. "What do you care if they know?"

"Because it's none of their business?" He waved his hand through the air, then let out another sigh of defeat. He stared at her for a few moments before he muttered, "I don't know." He turned and faced the elevator again, just as the door _pinged_ open. Cameron couldn't help but stare after him as he left the elevator, almost forgetting to get off of it herself.

_House admitted that he doesn't know something?_

The doors started closing on her, only to be stopped by House's cane with a loud _thwack!_

"You coming or not?" House demanded, a sour look on his face. His alarmingly blue eyes were boring into hers like a laser, but for the first time, Cameron didn't quiver under his scrutiny. She boldly stepped out of the elevator, but stopped briefly as she passed House to give him a quick peck on the cheek. He stared after her as she kept walking, and he felt the flush rising underneath his collar.

_Why did she do that?_

His arm jolted suddenly, and realized that his cane, which he was still holding loosely, was stuck in-between the closed elevator doors. He yanked it out unceremoniously and limped after Cameron, casting dubious glares on anyone that had happened to witness Cameron's sudden public display of affection in the hopes of quelling any rumors before they could get started.

It was going to be an interesting night.

**House, MD**

The car ride was long, but uneventful. They actually had a somewhat normal conversation, where House asked Cameron about her family and limited himself to only two snide remarks about how it figured that she came from such a normal-sounding family. She told him she had two siblings, an older brother, Travis, and a younger sister, Rebekah, both of whom were mildly successful, married, and had families of their own.

"So you're the only one without annoying brats and a needy spouse, eh?"

"You're beginning to sound like my mother," she retorted smoothly. "And you forget, I _was_ married, and I _was_..." She stopped suddenly and her hand shot to her mouth, but quickly dropped back to her lap in a futile effort to avert House's imminent prying.

"You were…?" House drawled. "…unhappy, crazy for marrying a guy on his deathbed, insane for trying to fix everything around you…"

"I was _happy_," Cameron stated firmly.

"Oh, is that what you were going to say?" He asked sardonically. "Hmph."

"Where are we going, anyway?" She decided the best course was to switch the topic.

"Now, that _would_ be telling." He gave her a devilish grin. She couldn't decide if she wanted to punch him the nose (though this time it wouldn't be via door) or kiss him, but she decided to do neither because the rational part of her told her that either course would most certainly lead to a car accident. Instead, she sighed irritably and settled deeper into her seat. House glanced sidelong at her slouching a little lower and smirked. He returned his eyes to the road and saw that their exit was next, so he moved over into the right lane.

"Oh, we're going to the Salts, are we?" She asked rather smugly and triumphantly. House rolled his eyes.

"No, we're not, Miss Noseypants," he replied. "That's where all your _other_ dates would've taken you." Now it was Cameron's turn to roll her eyes.

"Yes, because I go on _so_ many dates," she said, and she returned her focus to the darkness outside her window. Occasionally, a streetlamp would light up her features, and House almost wished that he had a chauffer so that he wouldn't have to keep taking his eyes off of her to drive. He sighed heavily. She turned her attention back to him at the noise, and looked as though she were going to ask the imminent, 'What's wrong?' question, but it never came.

She _wanted_ to, but she knew better, so she held it back.

Ah, self-control. It was nice that she had learnt some in the last two years of working with him. This was definitely not the same woman he had taken to the monster truck rally, nor the woman with whom he'd been blackmailed into having a disastrous 'first date'.

No, instead, she laid her hand on his thigh gingerly, caressing it briefly before it came to rest just above his knee.

He looked down at her hand for a moment, trying very hard to ignore it, but couldn't help the smile that formed on his face. He adjusted his hands so he could steer with his left and hold her hand with his right.

Silence enveloped them for the rest of the trip.

**House, MD**

"House, this is the best food I've ever eaten." She'd had her doubts about the little hole-in-the-wall Italian restaurant he'd ended up parking in front of, but after she had given him several dubious looks he had told her to trust him. So she had, and she was happy about her decision. Well, happy and about to explode from the amount of pasta she had just eaten, but happy nonetheless. Cameron patted her tummy for effect. "I had too much, but I just couldn't get enough…"

"Story of your life…" House muttered under his breath. Cameron sent him a doom-and-gloom-on-you glare, but he just grinned at her and said, "Glad you liked it." His I-told-you-so tone made her shake her head. However, just as she was about to reply, the waiter returned with the bill. Without a word, House took out his wallet it and slipped an alarmingly large amount of money onto the little tray the receipt was laid upon, then immediately handed it back to the waiter. He stood, put on his coat, retrieved his cane, and held out his hand to her. She took it and looked up at him as he helped her to her feet, grabbing her purse and putting on her coat on the way.

"Where are we going?" She queried as he smoothly tucked her hand under his arm and led her limpingly out of the restaurant. "More surprises?" He found it odd how smoothly she followed his gait, how she added grace to his inelegance. Maybe it was a couple years of practice of following him around the hospital or watching him rather closely. Their feet were crunching on the snow when he finally answered her.

"Nowhere special, just going to get dessert," he informed her, a little too casually.

"Ugh, there's no way I can eat anymore…"

"Who said anything about eating?" He didn't look at her; in fact, he was looking anywhere _but_ her. Her eyes narrowed piercingly on his profile as they arrived at the car. He busied himself with unlocking her car door while she stood there watching. It was snowing softly again, but she hardly noticed because she was too busy trying to work out what he was thinking he was going to get out of this date. A kiss, sure, that would be fine, but she would be damned if he thought he was going to 'get some' on the first date. She'd suddenly gone from being very comfortable to be very apprehensive in a matter of minutes.

This wasn't part of her plan.

He opened the door for her and the movement startled her out of her thoughts, causing her to jump a little, and he delighted in the effect he was having on her. "After you." He stood there with the door open wide as she stood in front of him, motionless. Cameron looked as a deer does when caught in the headlights of an oncoming semi. Her lips parted as though to speak, but no sound issued forth. It was like this for several moments before House decided to take advantage of her speechless immobility.

He kissed her. His right hand held onto the open door, his cane dangling from his forearm, whilst his left hand had found its way to the back of her neck underneath her soft, auburn hair, where it held her firmly but gently as his lips caressed hers. She stood there stupidly for a moment, still stunned, before she began to react. Her arms wound themselves seemingly of their own accord about his neck and shoulders and she pressed her body into his. All of her apprehension slowly melted away as his tongue slipped out to ask permission for access. She parted her lips to let him in and to do some exploration with her own tongue.

They stood there like that for several minutes, lost in the moment, the snow falling around them quietly, some catching in her dark hair and melting instantly, the dim light from the windows of the Italian restaurant causing the droplets to alight and sparkle. Her hands moved from his shoulders to his chest, then to his back in an effort to feel him, to be _near_ him, to be as close as possible, while his began to massage some of the tension out of her neck. He broke off the kiss and moved his lips to her neck in order to allow them time to breathe. She shuddered as he laid several warm kisses against her collar bone, then even more so when he pushed her coat off of her shoulder and some snowflakes fell onto her bare skin.

"Dessert is a dish best served cold," he mumbled against her shoulder as she shivered. She laughed aloud at his remark, at the perfection of the snow, this giddy feeling she hadn't felt for a long time. She considered her options.

Take this man home, or go home alone.

Hmm…Technically, this was their _second_ date…Well, counting the truck rally, it was the third…

"Do you…" Cameron struggled with the courage to just say the next few words. "…Want to come back to my place?" She pulled back so she could look at his face, more specifically his eyes, for his reaction. The steel-blue that met with her emerald-green were intense but full of nervousness.

"Boy, howdy, do I ever!" He replied with pseudo sarcasm, trying to cover up what she'd seen in his eyes and making her laugh once more. He couldn't help but kiss her again; she just looked so damned beautiful when she laughed, especially when it was because of him. He ended the kiss early as he thought of something. "There is one little teensy-weensy snag, however…" Cameron began to show signs of despair, her eyes dropping to his chest as she prepared herself for a let-down. He brought a finger up underneath her chin, gently guiding her to look him in the eye once more. "We'd have to go back to my place since I am pretty sure the cat would poop on my bed if I wasn't there to feed him breakfast."

She giggled and slapped him playfully on the arm before she hastily got in the car. "Well, what are you waiting for?" She asked impatiently. She then proceeded to give House one of the sultriest and sexy looks he'd ever seen. "I'm suddenly _very_ hungry all of the sudden…_Ravenous_ you might say…" House slammed the door and practically ran-limped to the driver's side of the car.

The 'Vette pulled out of the parking lot so fast it fish-tailed and kicked up flurries of snow.

**House, MD**

The humans came home and disturbed the feline from his sleep as they entered the apartment. The cat could tell from the scent that his human had apparently brought home the female that had been there before. They proceeded to knock a lot of things over or bump into things before they started throwing things around. A heavy article of clothing landed practically on top of the poor kitten where he had been sleeping on the couch, completely ruining any chances he had for getting back to sleep once the disturbance had moved on. He squirmed out from underneath the heavy, overly warm fabric of the coat that smelled like his human and he jumped to the back of the couch to glare at the two people who were making such a ruckus.

He was disappointed by the lack of response; however, when it appeared that they were completely ignoring his presence and utterly engrossed in each other's. His long tail swished back and forth agitatedly, his annoyance apparent. The two made their way down the hallway to his human's place of sleep, and the kitten followed with his tail straight in the air, curiosity piqued. He had to dodge more clothes that were thrown in random directions, the most dangerous of which being some shoes,

They appeared to be wrestling around a bit, as though they struggled to remove the last of their attire, when his human finally noticed the cat sitting in the doorway, watching them with big, yellow eyes. He heard the man rumble something before the human male began to limp over to where he sat and the kitten recognized the grouchy tone. Mick had to dart away from a foot that was attempting to nudge him out into the hallway and the door was promptly shut unceremoniously in his face.

The tail continued to twitch a little at its end, but the young cat continued to wait for a few minutes, until he found the noises coming from within the room to be slightly annoying and a little disconcerting. It sounded as though the human male were injuring the female, but the strong odor that reached his sharp nose told the feline otherwise. He decided to go make a bed out of the coat that had previously been thrown atop him whilst he had been sleeping, since it was apparent he would be getting no snuggles until morning.

He jumped up onto the couch and kneaded the coat a few times in order to make it softer, and eventually laid down upon it, curling up and settling his tail over his pink nose.

The snow outside continue to fall, and the sounds from the bedroom abated after a while, only to be replaced by the familiar sounds of his human's snoring.

Mick fell asleep to the comforting scent of his human's coat.

**A/N: I know it's a little shorter than some of the others, but I thought this a good place to stop. Hope you enjoyed it, even if it took me forever to get it posted! (Sorry again!) I think maybe one more chapter is in order...Should I receive more reviews. /grins wickedley**


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